Draco Malfoy and the Sorcerer's Stone
by miko626
Summary: Draco enters Hogwarts and learns of Harry Potter, the boy who defeated his father's master. After a series of incidents between the two, he swears to make Potter's life miserable and make his father proud.
1. Preface

DRACO MALFOY

AND THE SORCERER'S STONE

Just want to start off by saying that I own none of these characters, I only wish I did, nor do I own the dialogue I….well…/stole it/ from the book itself. (Yes, the dialogue where Harry is involved, or anything else that had already been written, had been kept the same for the sake of integrity to the books.) Sorry, J.K., but you wrote such a good series, I couldn't resist. Thanks for that by the way, for writing such an awesome plot so I could get the easier job of just writing it the other way around.

This all came about because I was bored waiting for book 7 to come out, and was rereading the books anyway at that point because…well..that's what I do when the new ones come out. So I decided to write the whole thing from Draco's point of view…which then got put off for a year because I typed it all on my sister's computer. And then she left for college and I kept forgetting to ask her to send me the file.

Read, enjoy, and please review. One request though- no Draco hate mail. Yes, I like Draco. Yes, I know he's a pretty worthless character most of the time. I know. It's a problem.


	2. Chapter 1

DRACO MALFOY

AND THE SORCERER'S STONE

Chapter One:

The Boy Who Would be Draco

Mr. Lucius Malfoy and his wife Narcissa lived a quiet life in grand Malfoy Manner, tucked away far from the busy streets of London. However, the quiet life they claimed to live was nothing like their true lives, the ones that were kept hidden from the non magic folk of the world. The Malfoys had chosen their quiet estate to keep these muggles out, and quite a job they had done- anti muggle security there was the best you could find anywhere. You see, the Malfoys had dark secrets in their lives- starting with the fact that they were wizards.

However, this secret was not nearly the darkest they kept hidden. Under cover of darkness and in the safety of a darkened cloak, Lucius served a master other than the Minister of Magic he claimed to support wholeheartedly. He worked to eradicate muggles under the guidance of none other than the darkest wizard the world had ever known: Lord Voldemort.

For many years, Lucius had served his master well, wreaking havoc on the muggles of the world, killing them as he saw fit. He and his fellow Death Eaters were responsible for mass muggle killings, riots, just about any bit of chaos within the last number of years. But there were still those who fought against them- Aurors, Ministry wizards trained to hunt Dark Wizards, as well as a radical group that called themselves the Order of the Phoenix. They worked relentlessly to bring the reign of the Death Eaters to an end, but the Death Eaters were constantly aware that they could be caught at any second and lived their lives with utmost caution.

Lucius stood in the hall and sighed. He glanced nervously at his left arm, waiting for the familiar burn that would soon cover the mark of the Dark Lord that was branded there. As soon as he felt it, he was to disapperate and appear at the Dark Lord's side, waiting for his orders. Tonight of all nights was especially important: the Dark Lord had heard word of a prophecy telling of a boy to be born that would one day be his downfall. He was currently acting on what he had heard from the prophecy: a boy, born at the end of July to parents who had defied the Dark Lord three times before, a boy who would be marked as the Dark Lord's equal. The possibilities had been narrowed down, and now the Dark Lord was out trying to find the boy he believed was to one day kill him and to kill him first: the son of Lily and James Potter, a couple who worked for the Order.

Lucius began to pace the hall. It shouldn't have taken this long, the Dark Lord surely would have called for him by now. He, one of the few who worked side by side with Him, devoted their very lives to His cause. Surely he should have called for him. Narcissa walked into the hall, carrying a small boy wrapped in an emerald green blanket. He bore the delicate features of his mother, coupled with the strength of his father, and topped with the white blonde hair of both. Lucius walked over to his son and smiled. "Draco," he whispered. "Draco, one day this will all be yours. Your mansion, your fortune, and your legacy."

Narcissa smiled at her husband. "Don't fill the boy's head up with that legacy nonsense just yet, he's just an infant! He'll have time to grow into the name of Malfoy." Lucius held up one finger. "And the bloodline that accompanies it." The Malfoys were one of the few pure blood families left, theirs completely untainted by muggle filth. Lucius stared into the face of his son, the one who would one day succeed him and carry on the Dark Lord's noble work.

A sharp knock was heard at the door. "Dobby?" Lucius spat. The ugly little elf scurried to the door and opened it. He scurried over to Lucius' side, then spoke in his annoyingly squeaky voice. "Sir, Severus Snape to see you, Sir." He scurried away once more, understanding that he had been dismissed, even though the command was never spoken. Lucius made a face of disgust, then strode to the doorway to greet Severus.

Snape stood awkwardly in the grandeur of the manor, clearly unaccustomed to such a regal dwelling. "Severus! It has been too long." Lucius reached out to shake Snape's hand, glancing with distaste at the greasy hair that hung into the thin man's face. Snape offered a curt handshake, then stared up at Lucius with solemn eyes. "Lucius, I have news. The Dark Lord- he went to the Potter's. Pettigrew had told him everything, just as we had planned. He killed James, then-" Snape paused, attempting to regain composure. "Then Lily as she tried to protect the boy. When he got to the crib, he preformed the curse and-"

Lucius looked into the man's face with anxious interest. "And? What happened?" Severus sighed, then spoke again. "The curse didn't work. For whatever reason, it—it backfired. The last thing we saw was a flash of green light, then something that looked like a spirit fled from the upstairs window. The boy was left unscathed other than a scar on his forehead. He- the Dark Lord has vanished."

Lucius staggered, grabbing the table near him for support. "You mean- he's gone? Our Master is gone?" He thought for a second. "We mustn't act in any way different. If anyone sees any of us acting as though a great tragedy has occurred, they'll put us in Azkaban for sure. Alert any of the others you can find. Tell them that if anyone comes to them thinking they've been with the Death Eaters, say that they've been Imperiused, we need to keep as many as we can out of prison so we can regain power."

Severus nodded, then strode out the door. Lucius turned back toward his wife and son, his expression delivering any news that need be told. He then set to work making their impenetrable security even more so, just to be sure that Ministry wizards would have a tough job ahead of them if they wanted to take down the Malfoys.


	3. Chapter 2

DRACO MALFOY

AND THE SORCERER'S STONE

Chapter Two:

Duelling Institutions

Draco Malfoy woke early every morning to assure he would eat a quiet breakfast by himself. He looked into the face of his alarm clock and smiled when he saw the time to be 6:30, a time where his breakfast was sure to be solitary. He pulled on his robe and a pair of thick socks and padded softly to his door, then down the grand staircase to the hall of Malfoy Manor. When he walked into the kitchen, however, anything but a quiet breakfast was awaiting him.

Draco looked to the post owl, ready to check for the day's post and newspaper, but was surprised to see its talons empty. He turned to the table and saw his father reading the paper and his mother sipping a steaming cup of tea. They looked up when they saw him and both grinned widely.

Lucius snapped his fingers for the family's house elf. "Dobby? Get Draco a good breakfast, the boy needs his strength if he's going to be a good wizard." Draco sighed. His father was always harping on what a good wizard he would become, with proper training- not just the simple tricks he picked up as childhood mischief. He sat down at his place at the table and looked to the left of the plate Dobby had just placed before him. He saw sitting there two thick parchment envelopes, both addressed to him. He picked up the one addressed in green ink first, knowing exactly what it was before he opened its seal.

His mother grinned at him. "Read it, Darling! Read what it says!" Draco sighed, but began to read the words printed on the parchment. "Dear Mr. Malfoy, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Yours Sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress." Narcissa beamed at her son. "Congratulations, darling! A fine education, without even leaving the country!" Draco put down the letter with a sour expression on his face. "Mother, Hogwarts is too common a school. Plus, they have an entire class devoted to the study of _muggles_." He spat the word out, his distaste for it apparent. His father smirked, then pressed the second envelope closer, this one addressed in scarlet ink. "Here, Draco- read this one." Draco opened the seal and removed the parchment. "To Mr. Draco Malfoy: You have been honoured with acceptance to the Durmstrang Institute. Enclosed is a list of materials you will need to purchase before the start of term on September 10th. Please send a return owl before the date of August 8th, and we will look forward to seeing you in our honoured institution. With regards, Igor Karkaroff, Headmaster."

This time it was Lucius's turn to beam. "Congratulations, Draco! Acceptance to Durmstrang is one of the highest honours one can achieve. You should be proud of yourself." Draco looked from his mother to his father, seeing his mother's disappointment that he may be leaving England to attend school. However, his father was so proud that his son had a chance to attend the finest institution for the Dark Arts the wizarding world had to offer. But his mother…Draco sighed. His decision would mean his father's disappointment and his mother's joy. "Father? I think…I will go to Hogwarts. For mother's sake, I know how much it would pain her for me to be so far away for my education." Stupid, turning down first rate Dark Arts training for his mother. Would the Dark Lord have done something that foolish? But of course, the Dark Lord had never known his mother. How could Draco ever become a great Dark Wizard 

if he was constantly doing things for his mother's sake? _This will be the last time, _he thought._ I shall never decide something again based on my mother's feelings._


	4. Chapter 3

DRACO MALFOY

AND THE SORCERER'S STONE

Chapter Three:

Diagon Alley

Draco rose early as usual on the day he was to go to Diagon Alley for his wizarding supplies. Draco had dressed before breakfast, something he rarely did, but today was different. They needed to be out of the house early to avoid the scum that ran rampant in Diagon Alley. His parents were sitting in the kitchen as they had been a few weeks before, the day he received his letters. However, they ate in silence, not having the excitement of the week before to fill the emptiness. When they had finished, Lucius rose and left the room, Narcissa following soon after with a quick kiss on the top of Draco's head. Draco stood and began to leave the room as well, when Dobby appeared before him.

"Bloody hell, elf! Don't do that!" The elf looked ashamed. "Sorry, Young Master. Dobby will punish himself for your fright." The elf began to bang his head against the wall in punishment. After about twenty dull thunks, he looked up. "Your father wanted me to give you this, Young Master. He said that we wouldn't be going to Gringotts so you should have your money with you now." He handed Draco a small bag filled with galleons, sickles, and knuts, all of which jingled gleefully in Draco's hand. "Thank you, elf, you are dismissed." Dobby bowed low to the ground, then left without another word.

Draco turned toward the staircase and slowly walked back to his room, taking the cloak that hung on the wall by his door. As he was about to return to the hall, his father appeared by his side. "Dallying, Draco? You know we have much to do and very little time. Come, we'll be leaving in a few minutes." He pressed his walking cane into Draco's shoulder, the snake's head that concealed his wand digging into the flesh. Draco winced, then stepped slowly down the stairs. He met his mother at the door, where she put her hand to his shoulder. "Are you ready, darling?" Draco nodded. His father walked up behind him and moved to open the door. Once they were clear of the property, Lucius turned to face his wife and son. "I'll be at Borgin and Burke's, meet me there as soon as you arrive." And with that, he disapperated, soon followed by Narcissa with Draco clutching her arm.

Draco hated side-along apparition. He couldn't wait until he was of age and could do it himself. The sensation of being pressed through a small constricted space overcame him once, then again, as he and his mother finally appeared outside of Borgin and Burke's, where they saw Lucius waiting for them. He looked around the street, which was already crowed with witches and wizards. Lucius sighed. "Draco, where is your booklist?" Draco pulled the list from his pocket and handed it to his father. "Good. I'll go get these books. Your mother will go to the wand shop for you, and you will go to Madam Malkin's and get your robes."

Narcissa looked like she had swallowed something bitter. "Malkin's? What happened to Twilfitt and Tatting's?" Lucius shook his head slowly. "Twilfitt is at the Ministry for questioning. They took him in because they think he had something to do with the Death Eaters. He should be out in a few weeks, but still.."

Draco sighed. With a quick kiss from his mother, he strode off toward the robe shop. The shop witch approached him as soon as he stepped in the door. "Hogwarts robes, I presume? Give me just a few seconds, I'll go get them.." She returned a few seconds later with robes for him. She had just began to pin up the ends of the sleeves when the door opened again.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she asked. "Got the lot here- another young man being fitted up just now, in fact." She gestured toward Draco, and he turned to see a boy his age with messy black hair step onto the stool beside him. He smirked. "Hello, Hogwarts too?"

The boy looked nervous. "Yes," he said. Draco still smiled. "My father's next door buying my books and mothers' up the street looking at wands," he said. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully my father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

The boy didn't say anything. Draco continued. "Have _you_ got your own broom?" he asked. "No," said the boy.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," said the boy, looking slightly confused.

"_I_ do- Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," said the boy.

Draco went on, thinking all the while how stupid this boy was not to know anything. "Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been- imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm," said the boy. Draco laughed to himself. _What a dull boy,_ he thought. He glanced out the window and saw a giant man walking by the shop. "I say, look at that man!" he said.

Finally, the boy said something other than 'no', and Draco was almost shocked that his vocabulary extended that far. "That's Hagrid," he said. "He works at Hogwarts." Draco nodded in agreement. "Oh, I've heard of him. He's sort of a servant, isn't he?"

The boy looked to be annoyed by the last statement. "He's the gamekeeper," he said. Draco nodded. "Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of _savage_- lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."

The boy looked angry now. "I think he's brilliant," he said.

Draco sneered. "_Do_ you? Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," said the boy, defensively.

"Oh, sorry," said Draco, not meaning it in the slightest. "But they were _our_ kind, weren't they?"

The boy seemed defensive again. "They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."

Draco grinned. An opportunity to bring up his favourite subject of argument. "I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they et the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

Just then, Madam Malkin walked over to them. "That's you done, my dear," she said to the boy with the black hair. Draco was not sorry to see him go. "Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," he said. He could honestly care less, but he figured he would show some courtesy to his classmates.

Within a few minutes he was done as well, and he stepped back into the street to find his father waiting for him. "All set, Draco?" he asked. Draco held out his robes, wrapped in brown paper. "I tried to get them with the Slytherin crest on already, but the witch wouldn't let me. She said I shouldn't count my hippogriffs before they can fly, crazy old bat." Lucius smiled 

faintly. "Ah, there's your mother, shall we continue?"

They continued their shopping without much incident, stopping first at the apothecary, then the parchment shop, with a detour back to Knockturn Alley so Lucius could get the latest gossip from the Death Eaters that still kept shop there. As they were walking back along main street, Narcissa pointed out Eeylops Owl Emporium. Draco selected an eagle owl, and they returned to the main street a few minutes later with the cage tucked safely away among their other packages.

As they walked past Quality Quidditch Supplies, Draco wandered over to the window. They had the new Nimbus on display, 2000 series. "Father, can I have a racing broom?" he asked. His father sighed, then looked into the window. "Draco, you know what I've told you. You can get a new broom when you're eligible for the house team. Start of term next year, we'll get you the best broom money can buy, but for now, I don't see the point." Draco grimaced, but turned away from the window. Only one more year, then whatever broom he wanted could be his.

Narcissa looked at her wristwatch. "Lucius, don't you think we should be getting back? It's getting awful late, Draco will need his rest-"

"I'm fine, mother, I don't need--"

Lucius cut in. "Nonsense, Draco! You're starting Hogwarts now, its going to be more trying than the mathematics and things we've been teaching you the past eleven years. You're a growing boy and need more rest. We'll get home at once, and then we'll get you something to eat." Draco made a face. He hated being coddled like this, having his parents take care of his every need. He couldn't wait until he started school, then he could finally do what he wanted.

However, for now he would have to obey his parents. With a last look of distaste, he nodded. "Yes, Father." He looked out at the busy street, filled with smiling witches and wizards. What he wouldn't give for that kind of freedom. He gripped his father's arm, and the street disappeared, being replaced instead with the garden fence of the manor. "Home sweet home," Draco muttered under his breath, and began hauling his packages up the walk. Where was that pesky elf when his services were required?

He trudged up the two sprawling flights of stairs to his room and dumped his packages on the bed without a second thought. He rummaged through parcels of brown paper until he reached the only one he was ever interested in: a long thin parcel tied with twine. He hastily pulled off the paper to reveal a black box. Draco ran his fingers along the edge, seeing without even opening the package what he knew lay inside. Nestled within a red velvet lining was a long, thin, beautifully carved piece of wood, one that held more secrets than its nondescript box seemed to suggest. He remembered that moment, no more than three hours before, in the small, cluttered shop, the first moment when he could finally feel the wizard blood in his veins.

He had left the robe shop feeling cocky. That idiot boy, he could have told him anything and he would have eaten it right out of the palm of his hand. Perhaps he would bully his father into buying him a racing broom, that would give the other first years quite a shock. However, the second he laid eyes on his father's distinctive white blonde hair, all semblance of arrogance was lost. His father's normally clear gray eyes now shone as hard as the steel they resembled in colour, and Draco knew that when his father was like this, there would be no bullying him into anything. After a few moments of strained conversation they had started down the street towards his mother, standing in the open doorway of the wand shop waiting for them.

When they stepped inside, the frail wandmaker shook his head. "It is really inadvisable, you know, to have a young boy's first wand selected by a parent rather than himself. True 

enough, the blood is still there and the connections from that, but it's really best that the one who will use the wand is the one the wand chooses, you know-"

Lucius raised a finger to shush him. "Ollivander, we really appreciate your- expertise, but we are in a bit of a rush, so if you wouldn't mind?" Ollivander looked offended by this ignorance of the subtleties of wand magic. But, who was he to refute the wishes of a paying customer? He sighed, then pushed a small pile of boxes across the table to Draco, who stared almost blankly at them. Ollivander gave him an encouraging look. "Go on then, boy! Try one out."

Draco remembered sorting through the pile, opening box after box and trying one wand after the other, none of them in any way suited for him. His father looked more than once at his pocketwatch, clearly anxious to be done with all of this shopping. Finally, Draco reached the final box, completely black with crisp, clean edges. He opened its cover to see the blood red velvet lining and the simply carved wand that lay inside. Ollivander sighed, looking tired from his dreary experience with the Malfoys. After a quick glance at the wand, he spoke again. "Hawthorn and unicorn hair, ten inches exact. Reasonably springy, very good wand." Draco took it gingerly from the box and gripped it firmly in his right hand. With a gentle wave, he could tell that this was his wand. It wasn't really a feeling of power, per se, but life awakened in his blood. The wizard's blood in his veins. Even now, remembering that moment not three hours before, feeling the cool wood in his hand, he felt the blood again. And in that moment, Draco realized that this year marked the start of something bigger than any of them could ever expect, and swore that he would be a part of it. He would be a part of it, and he would finally make his father proud of him.


	5. Chapter 4

DRACO MALFOY

AND THE SORCERER'S STONE

Chapter Four:

The Journey from Platform Nine and Three Quarters

The days before September first seemed to move more quickly than normal, as if they could sense Draco's anticipation. The night before he would be leaving on the Hogwarts Express, Draco found himself sitting by his bead amongst all of his packages, every single one still wrapped safely in its brown paper save for the wand. A trunk sat no more than a foot away, black trimmed in silver and emerald green with the initials 'D.M.' embossed on the end. The house elf ran frantically through the room, piling Draco's clothes and other things into the trunk. He packed in all the brown paper packages that surrounded Draco, then moved to the wand box that sat on the bedside table. His long fingers had hardly touched the very edge of the box when Draco cast him a sharp glare. The elf's already abnormally large eyes bugged out even farther, making the effect rather much like a deer staring into a bright light. He made a noise like a mouse squeezing through a tight space and left the room in a hurry.

Draco stood and walked over to his now full trunk. In a burst of anger, he gave it a sharp kick, causing the lid to slam shut. He was sick of waiting, he wanted to get to Hogwarts. Not only to get away from his father's brand of discipline, but for a chance to become someone his father would be proud to call his son. He walked over to his bed and sat down, then looked at the room around him. This would be his last night at Malfoy Manor for some time, the last time he would lay on this bed and stare out his window at the sprawling grounds until the Christmas holidays. By then everything would be covered in snow, and the manor kept very chilly- difficult to keep a building that large properly heated, even with magic. He cast a glance around at his pale green walls, their only decoration a faded Slytherin pennant from when his father was in school. He stepped carefully towards it, fingered the worn edges, ran his hand across the swirling silver snake. Slytherin, that was the house for him.

He was interrupted from his reverie by his father clearing his throat from the doorway. "Draco, do try and finish packing, or we'll be late for the train- you wouldn't want to miss it, would you?" Draco sighed and turned towards his trunk. "No, Father." He began haphazardly throwing his belongings inside, not caring where they fell. Lucius sighed, then turned and strode away from the room. A few minutes later, Draco was lugging his trunk down the stairs, his owl's cage wedged uncomfortably under his arm, his wand tucked gingerly into the back pocket of his pants. His mother stood at the bottom of the stairs, grinning broadly at the thought of her son finally attending a real wizarding institution.

His father stepped forward to take the owl's cage and the trunk. "I shall see you at the station, then?" With a slight pop, he had vanished. Narcissa took her son's arm and kissed the top of his gleaming white hair. "He is proud of you, you know," she whispered. "He just doesn't know how to show you." Draco sighed, and they disapperated.

They reappeared on Platform nine and three quarters, the scarlet red Hogwarts Express sitting just to the left, waiting for the new crop of students to board for the long journey to the castle. Draco reclaimed his belongings from his father and turned to walk towards the train, eager to be on his way to his independence. His father caught his arm, however, before he could get very far. "Draco? Do try to be good at school." Draco nodded, understanding that instead of the traditional 'good', his father meant the kind that their kind expected- being good to those of 

pure blood, and leaving the rest to receive only what they deserved.

His mother gave him a final kiss on each cheek, her eyes welling up with tears. "Mother…don't cry, I'll be back for Christmas, you know that. And I'll write, every week." She nodded, and Draco walked onto the already crowded train. He saw at the very end of the corridor, two familiar faces- Crabbe and Goyle, two brutish boys whom Draco had known almost since birth. His father and their fathers had served together for the Dark Lord, and their families had been close ever since. They were hardly more than flunkies, but generally it paid off for Draco to keep them around.

"Boys!" Crabbe and Goyle looked confused, then saw Draco put a hand up to flag them over. Goyle pointed dumbly into a compartment, and the three of them stepped inside and put their belongings into the overhead compartments. They spent about an hour catching up, buying a few treats off the lunch cart to enjoy while they waited to arrive at the school. A few friends joined them as they went along- Blaise Zabini among them.

He took a seat next to Draco, and the two of them immediately began talking about who they had seen on the train, when Blaise chuckled.

"I heard the greatest thing when I was getting on the train- you'll never guess it."

"Who?"

"You have to guess."

"Blaise…if I'll never guess it, then what's the point in asking me to guess? Just tell me, alright?"

Blaise scowled. "You're no fun. Anyway. Word on the street is that Harry Potter is on the train, headed for Hogwarts with us. He's to be in our year."

Draco smirked. "The Famous Harry Potter? No, there's no way they'd let a half blood like that loose in the school." He thought for a moment. "Well, there's that softy of a headmaster, Dumbledore..he might let a half blood in, but god only knows why."

Blaise shrugged. "I'm only telling you what I heard, I don't know anything more than that."

Draco thought for a moment, then his face broke into a grin. "Well then..what do you say we go and meet the locals?" Crabbe looked at him, dumbfounded. "What do you mean, Draco?" Draco sighed. "Have a look around, see if there's anyone worth anything on this whole train. You know what I mean." Crabbe nodded, as did Goyle, but Draco just rolled his eyes, unconvinced that either of them had the faintest idea what he was talking about. Instead, he quickly changed into his robes- he so wished that they said Slytherin already!- and stepped back into the corridor of the train.

He strode down the corridor, peeking into compartments, but saw mostly older students, and even Draco wasn't stupid enough to mess with them on their first encounter. He finally found a compartment that had only first years in it- a pale, freckled boy with bright red hair, and the dark haired boy who Draco had met at the robe shop. He turned to see Crabbe and Goyle lumbering along behind him. "Where's Blaise?" he asked, looking angered. Goyle stared almost blankly back at him. "He stayed behind in the compartment," he said. Malfoy scoffed and turned back towards the compartment in front of them. "His loss," he said. "Boy, he's going to miss all the fun."

Draco slid open the door to the compartment and enjoyed the look of utter confusion on the faces of both boys inside. He peered curiously at Harry, looking for the telltale scar he was rumoured to have on his forehead. "Is it true?" he asked. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Harry, looking almost embarrassed. He was eyeing Crabbe and Goyle cautiously. Malfoy took notice, and offered a casual introduction. "Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle. And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

The red haired boy in the corner laughed, quickly turning it into a cough when Malfoy cast his cold gray eyes in his direction. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." He turned his eyes back towards the Potter boy. "You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter, You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." He extended his hand towards Potter, a gesture of friendship. Surely his father would be proud of this- attempting to bring their most fervent enemy over to their cause.

Potter merely looked at it almost blankly, then resigned himself to a cooler expression. "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said. Draco was a bit disappointed in that, and tried his best not to show it- instead keeping his cold demeanour about him. "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he spat. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

He snickered to himself as both the boys stood up, defensive. "Say that again," said Weasley, his face reddening to match his flaming red hair. Malfoy just smirked. "Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Potter tried his best to look tougher than he was, an odd effect on such a skinny little boy. "Unless you get out now," his words laced with false bravado.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some." Goyle reached to the pile of chocolates next to Ron, and Ron jumped toward him, poised to strike. Goyle yelled, high pitched and whining, and recoiled. He was waving his hand arbitrarily around the compartment, swinging a fat brown rat along with him. Finally the rat disengaged itself from Goyle's finger, hitting the window of the compartment with a dull thunk. The three boys snuck off down the corridor and back to their own compartment, Draco's gray eyes hardened to the colour of steel as they set off down the hall.

Blaise was waiting for them when they returned, spinning a chocolate frog card between his fingers. "So? Is it Potter?" Draco nodded coolly. "Yes," he spat. "And it seems he doesn't know how to keep himself out of trouble, hanging out with the weasel Weasley."

Blaise laughed. "We'll see how it goes once we get to the sorting…" As soon as the words had left his lips, an eerie voice echoed through the train. "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately." Draco checked to make sure his wand was tucked safely into his robes, then stood to peer out the door of the compartment. A few other students were doing the same, and Draco offered a smirk to some of his acquaintances before returning to the compartment. Through the window he could see the stone castle that was Hogwarts as they approached. "Well, boys, looks like we'd best be going now." Crabbe and Goyle stooped to grab the last few chocolates, then followed he and Blaise into the corridor. Draco walked forward , reaching the door of the train just as they reached the Hogsmeade station. He stepped boldly off the platform, eager to face the sorting hat, and was startled to see the oaf Hagrid waving them in the direction of a small fleet of little boats to ferry them across the lake.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" Draco rolled his eyes and stepped towards where the giant was gesturing. The path wound around and around until they finally reached the edge of the lake. "Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the oaf called, and Draco looked 

towards the great castle like the rest of his peers.

Before the giant could tell them to get in the boats, he, Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise had reached the one closest to them and were preparing to step inside it. "No more'n four to a boat!" he called, and the students boarded the boats eagerly. "Everyone in? Right then- FORWARD!" The little boats all started gliding across the lake together, making the way across its clear black surface towards the great castle before them.

The boats reached the cliff below the school. Hagrid called back once again. "Heads down!" The boats glided through a large curtain of ivy and in through a hidden tunnel into the underground of the castle. Draco stepped out of the boat onto the pebbly ground and started up the steps to the castle proper. Hagrid had reached the door first, and turned one last time to face them. "Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" He raised his fist to the castle door and banged his huge fist against it once, twice, three times. Draco took a deep breath and prepared to enter Hogwarts for the first time.


	6. Chapter 5

DRACO MALFOY

AND THE SORCERER'S STONE

Chapter Five:

The Sorting Hat

The door opened with a loud creak, and a tall, sombre witch in deep green robes stepped out to meet them. Her eyes were stern as they flitted around the crowd of gawking students. The giant cleared his throat. "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall." The stern witch, McGonagall, looked at him, the hint of a smile gracing her face. "Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She opened the door even wider, exposing the entrance hall to the castle.

The castle proper was large, but not larger than Draco had expected- this particular hall was maybe twice the size of the entrance hall at the Manor. The first years followed through the torch-lit hall to a smaller chamber, which the students crowded to fit into. McGonagall cleared her throat, and they all looked to her humourless face.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin." Draco smirked. "Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The sorting ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes glanced toward a boy with a round face standing near the front of the queue, whose cloak was fastened at an awkward angle, and at Weasley, who had dirt smudged down his face. "I shall return when we are ready for you." And with that, McGonagall swiftly entered the Great Hall, leaving them waiting for her return.

Draco smiled. "Slytherin's the house for me, I can tell. Father said the whole family have been Slytherins, I can't see how I couldn't be." Blaise smiled. "You have nothing to worry about, Draco- none of us do. With parents like ours, we'll all end up in Slytherin." He gestured to the four of them.

A sudden apparition broke the hum of conversations. A group of ghosts, almost transparent, had just appeared from through the wall behind them. They seemed to argue amongst themselves. A fat little ghost, wearing the robes of a monk, was the first to speak. "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance--"

A second ghost, wearing medieval clothing, broke in. "My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost--I say, what are you all doing here?"

He cast a glance around the scared looking first years. Nobody said a word. The Friar smiled broadly. "New students!" This was met with a few nods, most of the students still too terrified to speak a word. The Friar continued. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, 

you know."

While the students had been distracted by the ghosts, McGonagall had returned to the room. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start. Now, form a line, and follow me." Draco and his gang strode over to where a queue had begun to form before McGonagall, smirking the whole way. "Slytherin," he whispered. "Slytherin."

McGonagall opened the double doors in front of them, and the students entered into the Great Hall. The ceilings were as high as the Manor, lit by thousands of candles floating above the four house tables. Each was covered in golden plates, goblets and silverware, as was the table at which the teachers sat towards the front of the Hall. The ceiling seemed to be covered with as many stars as the sky itself.

The line stopped suddenly in front of the staff table. McGonagall placed a small stool in front of the line, placing a beaten hat upon it. _This must be the Sorting Hat_, Draco thought. Before he could think any more about it, the hat seemed to open into a wide mouth from a seam along the brim, and the Hat began to sing, almost a chant:

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black, _

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head,_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means _

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

As the hat finished singing, the whole of the school began to clap. The hat bowed, then became quite still. McGonagall stepped forward, a long roll of parchment in her hands. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

Draco paid little attention as the rest of the first years were sorted. Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, Gryffendors…Millicent Bulstrode, a hulking girl, much like a female version of Grabbe or Goyle, became the first Slytherin. The sorting continued, until Draco finally heard McGonagall call out, "Malfoy, Draco!"

He swaggered toward the hat, and McGonagall began to place the hat on his head. It barely touched his scalp, but Draco could hear it thinking inside his own head.

"Another Malfoy, eh? Lots of talent, fair bit of brains, and a darker side…clearly a Slytherin, if I've ever seen one. Easier than sorting your father." Draco smiled. "SLYTHERIN!" Draco couldn't help but look pleased as he sauntered off toward the Slytherin table. He was met with congratulations from his fellows, and took his seat beside Crabbe and Goyle. The three of them snickered through the rest of the sorting, congratulating the new Slytherins as they joined the table. Finally, the name the whole hall had been waiting for was called.

"Potter, Harry!" A hush fell over the Hall, followed by a murmur of whispers about the dark haired boy approaching the stool. The hat sat on his head for what seemed like forever, longer than it had seemed for the rest of the students. Finally, it made its decision. "GRYFFINDOR!"

Draco scowled. "He could have been a great Slytherin," he said. "Would have made quite a difference for the old crowd, having the famous Harry Potter on our side." The sorting didn't take much longer after Potter, ending with Blaise, who came to sit beside Draco at the Slytherin table. He clapped Draco on the back, and the friends turned toward the staff table, where the headmaster had stood to speak.

"Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" Draco sniggered. "Leave it to a muggle-soft headmaster to come up with something as ridiculous as that," he whispered. Blaise smiled. Dumbledore sat down once again, and the tables began to fill with food. Roast beef and chicken, pork and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, potatoes- roast, boiled, and fried, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy- anything Draco could think to eat, sitting before them. He helped himself to a little of everything and began to eat.

He hadn't gotten very far into his meal when Blaise suddenly scooted away from him in shock. "Wha--Blaise, what are you doing?" Blaise pointed, speechless, to the ghost who had come to occupy his now vacant seat. Even though he was a ghastly gray, his robes seemed to be stained with silver- blood. He looked horrible and terrifying, and Draco's face paled even farther. An older boy sitting near him smiled, his fork halfway to his mouth.

"Malfoy, allow me to introduce the Bloody Baron, Slytherin's ghost." The Baron nodded, then looked into Draco's eyes with his cold, empty ones. "New first years, I see. Do try to ensure the house cup again this year- six years running, I would hate to see it leave the hands of the greater of the four houses." Draco nodded wordlessly, and the Baron smiled an eerie grin.

Draco spent the rest of the meal in silence, not wanting to alarm the baron in any way. The other students, however, whispered excitedly amongst each other, about classes, Quidditch- 

anything. Draco looked to the staff table and his new teachers, looking to see who he would see tomorrow for classes. To his surprise, he saw a familiar face staring out into the Hall.

He had a long hooked nose and skin pale enough to rival Draco's, with long greasy black hair hanging into his dark eyes. He cast a glance at Draco and a thin smile passed his lips. Severus Snape, an old friend of his father's. Draco had seen him frequently at the Manor, but had completely forgotten that he taught potions at Hogwarts. He looked forward to seeing someone familiar in his classes, getting that little foothold that would get him ahead. Snape looked back out at the other students, scanning the crowd, and Draco returned to his meal.

When the students were done, the food disappeared as quickly as it had come, soon being replaced by a wide variety of sweets and cakes. Draco helped himself to the pies and tarts, as did his peers. When everyone was finished, Dumbledore stood again as the plates cleared themselves once more. He cleared his throat and began to speak.

"Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well. I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." Blaise and Draco shared a smirk through the iridescent Baron- like a muggle caretaker would stop _them_ from using magic if the wanted. Dumbledore continued, Draco only half listening to the announcements.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." Draco snorted. Out of bounds, eh? He would see what was so dangerous about it soon enough. He made a mental note to have his father ask around at the Ministry, see if he could find out what the muggle-loving headmaster was hiding.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Draco groaned, as did many of the Slytherins. The Baron glided away, and Blaise cautiously returned to his original seat. Dumbledore flicked his wand, which sprouted a long gold ribbon bearing the words to the Hogwarts tune. "Everyone pick their favourite tune, and off we go!"

Draco stared blankly into the faces of the smiling students as they sang, the words rather ridiculous- but what more could you expect from such a man as Dumbledore? Draco paid no attention to what his classmates were singing, and scowled when the song finally concluded with a pair of Weasley boys marking the final notes.

"Ah, music," said Dumbledore. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

Draco and Blaise stood eagerly from the table and followed the rest of the Slytherins into the entryway. A tall boy with dark hair and the Slytherin crest on his robes put up his arms. "Slytherins! Slytherin first years, this way!" He led them off down a narrow corridor and down numerous sets of stairs until they had reached the dungeons of the castle. They stopped abruptly at what seemed to be just another stretch of stone. The tall boy, a Slytherin prefect, turned to face them.

"This is the entrance to the Slytherin common room and dormitories. A password is required to open the door, and you would do well not to forget it." He turned once again to face the wall and said, very clearly, "Lethifold." The stones of the wall slid apart, revealing a stone 

door, which swung open to reveal the common room.

The walls were stone as well, stretching on for what seemed to be the length of the whole dungeon. Round emerald green lamps hung from the low ceiling, and a fire was already lit in an ornately carved mantle at the end. High backed chairs cluttered the room, many of them already filled with some of the older students. The prefect led them to the end of the common room and gestured to the staircases to his left and right.

"These are the stairways to the dormitories. Girls to the left, boys to the right. Your things have already been brought to your rooms. Try to get a good nights sleep, your class schedules will be distributed upon your arrival at breakfast in the morning."

He walked swiftly toward a group of boys laughing in a corner. Draco peered up the staircase, then began to walk down the narrow stone steps. They soon levelled out into a long passageway with doors on either side for each of the years. Blaise pulled open one of the heavy doors to reveal their room- a large stone chamber with four poster beds lining the walls. Heavy green curtains hung from the beds, and each of the boys trunks lay at the foot of each.

Draco found his and quickly changed into his pyjamas. He carefully placed his wand carefully on the night-table beside him, then looked around at the room. Blaise called out good night from his bed on the opposite side of the room, Crabbe and Goyle grunted their response. Draco smiled. "Good night, boys." He reached out for the oil lamp and swiftly turned it off.


End file.
